I Got You
by FanofBellaandEdward
Summary: There's a fine line between dreams and reality and Harry finds himself threading it. He's not sure which of the two is worse, though. Harry's pov; MPreg; slash; disturbing and dark scenes; more detailed warnings inside; please heed the warnings
**Author's note: Okay, guys, this is probably one of my most disturbing and darkest stories so far. When I say it will contain disturbing scenes, I'm not kidding at all, so please pay attention to the warnings. I still have no idea how the hell I came up with this idea, so yeah ...**

 **Warnings: Harry's pov; MPreg; established slash; birth; angst; disturbing scenes involving a baby and being hold somewhere against their will; not epilogue compliant; mind fuck; dark story; character death**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

* * *

 **I Got You**

Pain racked through his body; not unlike the sensation of a knife burying itself in his stomach, twisting and pulling sadistically. A moan of agony was pulled from between his clenched teeth and he curled up as much as he could to try to stave off the burning pain. It didn't help at all; his heartbeat was loud, _too loud_ , in his ears and it hurt to breathe.

The pillow felt rough against his cheek; rough and damp from the tears he had unwillingly shed as his mind and body tried to cope with the waves of blinding pain wrecking him.

The snow white sheets half-haphazardly covering his lower half felt uncomfortably hot, damp, _alien_. He was torn between kicking them off and pulling them up; a weak cover against the cool air in the room.

As soon as the last shred of pain ebbed away he sagged back down, panting harshly; forcing himself to uncurl his body, lest he risked cramping up. He had enough to deal with already.

A hand caressed his sweaty hair, forcing a shudder out of him and he opened his eyes. The room was dark, save for a couple of floating, lit, black candles; they mainly illuminated the large bed, casting long shadows against the dark walls and the closed oak door. The golden doorknob gleamed faintly in the flickering candle lights.

"If you relax, you'll be able to cope better with the pain," the man admonished him, clucking his tongue in slight exasperation.

Hands clenched into tight fists; he barely registered the sting when his nails burrowed themselves into the soft flesh of his palms.

"Or you can let me go," Harry spat, but fear weakened his ire and his voice came out pleadingly. "I swear I won't tell anyone."

"I'm afraid that's not an option," said the man sorrowfully and slender fingers stroked his cheek in the mockery of a loving caress. "It won't be much longer anymore and then everything will be all right."

Harry flinched away from the touch, trying to put as much distance between him and the other man as possible. It was a futile attempt, given the way his hands were cuffed to the headboard.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry demanded and cringed at how weak he sounded.

Loathing rose up in him; four years ago he had defeated Voldemort and now he couldn't even summon his own magic to help him, thanks to the magic draining spell with which the handcuffs were equipped. He had discovered that particular painful fact three hours ago when he had woken up in this dreary room. Once more he berated himself for having lowered his guard when he left the house.

He had been kidnapped before, but back then he wasn't in the state he was in now and it was difficult to keep the all-consuming panic at bay.

The other wizard patted his cheek softly, ignoring how Harry twisted his head away from him. "I've told you: I can't have you sullying your body any further. You'll be pure again soon once this is done." His eyes gleamed as they slid down to Harry's stomach. "I won't allow him or anything related to him to taint you any longer."

"You're insane," Harry whispered horrified.

The other quirked an eyebrow. "I'll let that one pass, because you're not in a good state now," he remarked coolly.

Fury flared up in him and Harry sniped, "How about you go to …" His retort was abruptly cut off when another wave of pain swept over him, making him gasp and whimper; a bead of sweat rolling down his temples.

Cool hands touched his stomach, ignoring his attempts – weak though they were – to dislodge them. His skin crawled underneath the clinical touch and bile threatened to rise up.

"They're coming quicker," his kidnapper remarked blandly and crawled on the bed, sitting on his knees at Harry's curled up legs. "Let's check whether the potion did its job."

The sheets were yanked off Harry before he could react and he yelped when his hip was grabbed. The hand bore down until he rolled onto his back and then hands slipped to his knees, forcing them apart.

"Don't touch me!" Harry snarled and kicked with his right leg, aiming for the man's chest.

His foot was snatched and roughly pushed down against the mattress, while his other leg was forced to the other side, effectively opening him up.

"There's no need to be so hostile," the man scolded and levelled him with a warning look. "I'd rather not put more cuffs on you than I already had to, but that's your decision."

"Fuck you," Harry spat and glared, but didn't dare to kick again. Who knew what the sick bastard would do then.

He looked away and clenched his teeth when fingers slipped underneath the waistband of his underwear to pull it off. He couldn't stop himself from jerking away when fingers touched an opening that hadn't been there last week.

A humming sound of approval reached his ears as fingers disappeared. They landed on his knees instead. "The potion did its job," the other one murmured and the sudden brandishing of his wand at the bed made Harry tense up. A piece of the sheets was cut off with a minor Cutting hex and changed into a couple of towels.

"With the next contraction, you need to push. I'm sure the Healer talked to you about this." A twisted grin lingered around his lips. "It shouldn't take long before it's out of you."

Emerald green eyes glared at him with a burning hatred, akin to what he had felt for Voldemort. Before he could form a scathing retort, his stomach contracted fiercely again and he couldn't stop the groan of pain leaving his throat, arching his back in search of relief from the agony. The urge to push was overwhelming, but he hold himself back. There was no way in hell he was going to deliver his daughter in this place. He just needed to hold on for a bit longer; his friends and his lover would surely find him soon. They had done so before and with the baby's magical link to her other father, they wouldn't take too long anymore.

He just needed to hold on until then.

"Aaagh," escaped his throat when the contraction died out, leaving him to slump back against the bed, panting a little.

A dark chuckle cut through the haze that had momentarily fallen over him. "It's no use to try to hold back. It's coming and there's no way to stop the progress. You're only prolonging your own suffering, love."

Harry cringed at the sweet endearment.

The man continued in a taunting voice, "I thought you were looking forward to holding it in your arms, Harry? Or have you realised that I'm right?" Glee filled his tone.

"She's a girl, not an it," Harry growled and gasped when the next contraction took him by surprise. Oh fuck, he had forgotten that they would follow up each other much quicker now. He felt her shifting lower and bit his lower lip – ignoring the taste of iron and rust when blood bloomed – as he focused on not giving in to the urge to push. The urge was more insistent now; his legs spreading a bit further to accommodate, but he managed to not give in.

Some tears escaped him as he tried to regulate his breathing; his hands clutching the chains to ground him.

"Ah, you think he's going to find you here," the man murmured and his eyes gleamed in amusement. "You think he'll find you before it's over. Did he want to be there, Harry? Is that why you're holding back?"

Harry refused to answer; instead he glared and tightened his grip around the chains.

"He won't be coming," the other wizard informed him casually. "Your friends don't even know you're gone."

"Y-you're lying," Harry snapped, but niggling doubt started growing. They were coming for him; there was no way they hadn't noticed yet that he had disappeared.

The man cocked his head to his left and raised an eyebrow. "I have no reason to lie to you, Harry. I've made sure that they won't disturb us." His smile was slightly demented.

Fear flared up again. "What did you do to them?" His voice wavered with worry and he hated himself for showing how affected he was by the comment.

"Your friends are fine," the other one replied flippantly, almost bored.

He didn't say anything about Harry's lover and ice seemed to replace the blood in his veins. "What about …"

"If you don't start pushing with the next contraction, you're going to be in trouble soon." Fingers curled around his ankles. "I don't care what happens to it, but I do care about you, so stop resisting." His tone had chilled somewhat; irritation lurking underneath the surface.

 _If you really cared, you wouldn't have done this to me_ , Harry thought vindictively, but the man's remark had struck a chord. He didn't care about what happened to him, but he didn't want anything to happen to his baby. This whole situation was horrible, but if the man was telling the truth, then Harry had no choice but to give birth here or risk losing his daughter. Maybe his luck would hold out again and someone would find him before he finished giving birth.

Clinging to the small scrap of hope he had left, he took a deep breath and bore down as soon as the next contraction hit him.

"That's it, you're doing a good job," the man praised him; his thumb rubbed absentmindedly over Harry's ankle. "It won't take long anymore."

Harry wished he had his wand or at the very least access to his magic to curse the bastard, but as it was, all he could do now was push and hope that reinforcement would arrive soon.

Time crawled by; by now his neck and back were coated with sweat, the handcuffs rubbing his wrists red raw while his skin felt as if he was on fire. He was unbearably warm, his shirt sticking to his chest uncomfortably, but he kept pushing.

His baby was slowly moving down and the intense pain radiating from his stomach and groin – worse than the contractions leading up to the birth had been – made tears slip over his cheeks, stinging his overheated skin.

"Hngh!" Barely able to take a breath, Harry pushed again; his eyes clenched shut. Exhaustion was sneaking up on him and he wanted nothing more than to stop and rest – he just needed to rest a bit, only a bit – but he knew he couldn't stop now. He needed to keep going.

A gasp of pain escaped him when the burning pain suddenly worsened and he was only vaguely aware of the other one announcing, "It's crowning, Harry, just a bit longer."

With the last bit of his strength, he pushed again and kept boring down until his baby slipped completely out of him, leaving him raw, sore beyond words and empty.

A sharp cry of dismay cut through the silence and to Harry's ears that had to be the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

His daughter was held up in the air and tears rolled over his cheeks when he took in the weakly squirming, red baby still covered in blood and mucus. The umbilical cord was cut with a minor Cutting hex and her wrinkled face was cleaned with a towel.

"Seems like it's fine," the man remarked disinterestedly and lowered the baby. "Now you just need to pass the afterbirth and then - "

"I want to hold her," Harry interrupted in a hoarse voice. His daughter was finally _here_. At this moment all he wanted was to hold his baby, feel her reassuring weight in his arms.

An eyebrow rose up, but the man shrugged. The next moment one of the handcuffs released his wrist and he winced when feeling rushed back into his numb hand, bringing with it the sensation of prickling needles. Before he could get used to having one arm free again, his daughter was placed on his chest and he had to hurriedly place his arm around her to prevent her from falling off.

Holding her with only one arm proved to be uncomfortable, but he paid no mind to his discomfort, mesmerized by the small, _precious_ being staring back at him with solemn, dark blue eyes. She had his hair; it was still plastered against her head and he wondered whether she would have his eye colour as well.

He was barely aware of being coaxed to pass through the afterbirth; instead he studied his daughter and caressed her soft, plump cheek.

"Hey, sweetie," he whispered and chuckled watery when she smacked her lips loudly and closed her eyes with a soft sigh. "I bet you're tired now, hm? You're so beautiful, sweetheart."

He was so lost in marvelling about his baby girl that he startled badly when the man loomed over him, throwing a shadow over the bed.

Harry tightened his embrace, attempting to shield his daughter from those cold eyes and glared at the other one.

"Looks like you," the wizard stated gruffly. "Didn't quite expect that."

"Yes, she does," Harry murmured and bit his lip. He remembered all too well what the other man had told him, but maybe he could use this assessment in his favour?

"It took some time, but it's finally over," the man said and satisfaction rang through his voice. "Hand it over to me."

Harry bristled at the man's continued use of 'it' and shuffled awkwardly backwards. "What are you planning to do with her?" he demanded; his voice wavering with the panic that was steadily climbing once more.

He was given an admonishing look and the other one made an impatient sound. "I've told you this twice already; do listen," he said irritated. "You can only be pure again once everything related to him is gone."

Ice replaced the blood in his veins once more when the implications of the man's comment finally registered in his brain. He couldn't really mean …

"You - , you said it yourself: she looks like me. She doesn't resemble him at all," Harry said desperately and stared at the other one with wide eyes while his heart raced inside his chest. "Please let me keep her! I'll do anything you want, I swear! Just please don't take her from me!" His last plea came out strangled as a sob tore through him. His chest started to hurt with the force of his sobs, but he was helpless to stop them. The thought of being separated from his daughter hurt far more.

He flinched when a hand cupped his cheek tenderly, wiping away his tears.

"Please don't do this to me," Harry whispered, locking his gaze onto thoughtful eyes. "I swear I'll stay with you. Just pl-please, don't take her away." It didn't matter what the man wanted from him; as long as his daughter was safe, he could put up with everything.

"Sshh, don't cry; it'll be okay," the man soothed and kissed his tearstained cheek.

Harry forced himself to remain still, hoping that his acquiescence would be enough to change the man's mind.

The man studied him intently for a while, eyes flickering occasionally to the baby blissfully asleep, until he sighed, sounding almost resigned.

Hope flared up.

He was too late to react. A wand was pointed at him and a soft blue light embraced him before Harry could even do so much as blink.

A strong sleeping charm, he realised when his mind grew foggy and his eyelids grew heavy. He was too weak to fight against the charm; his body too heavy as if filled with lead, weighing down his body.

He only managed a vague noise of distress through numb, slack lips when he felt his baby leaving his embrace.

His eyes fell shut. His body reclined against the sheets; tension draining out of him quickly.

Right before sleep completely overtook him, he heard the man murmuring something above him.

"…t you."

Darkness descended over him.

* * *

Emerald green eyes shot open and the sound of his frantic heartbeat drowned out the noise of his gasping as the last tatters of the bad dream left him. He sat up and ran a trembling hand through his hair, tugging on some strands to ground himself.

Moonlight was still streaming through a small gap between the curtains, letting him know it was still night.

A startled yelp was torn out of him when arms slipped around his waist.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Draco asked alarmed and his blond, mussed up hair glinted faintly in the moonlight as he fully sat up, rubbing soothingly over Harry's side.

The dark haired man glanced at his husband of three years and smiled weakly, shaking his head slightly. "Just a bad dream," he murmured and sighed. "Sorry for waking you up."

Draco hummed thoughtfully. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered.

"Don't remember it actually," Harry admitted and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment. It was stupid to be so affected by something he couldn't even recall.

They both laid down again and Draco's hand found its way on Harry's belly, which had been housing their child for six months now. Their son kicked once, but quietened down almost immediately.

Lulled by Draco's soft, slow breathing and his warm, reassuring presence next to him, Harry fell asleep again; this time dreamless.

* * *

The grunt of surprise made Harry look up from the eggs that he was currently scrambling in the pan. "What's wrong?" he asked surprised and picked up the pan, turning it quickly around so that the scrambled eggs landed on his plate. Cheese cut into small, square slices and tomato cubes quickly joined the eggs.

Draco's voice held an odd tone when he answered, "They found Theo yesterday."

Theo … Where had he heard that name before?

"Theo?" he repeated bemused and crossed the kitchen, placing his breakfast on the table.

"Nott. He was in our year, remember?" Draco paused briefly, before he continued darkly, "Well, they found what is left of him anyway."

The fork halted mid-air and green eyes stared at the blond bewildered. "What do you mean: what is left of him?" he repeated aghast. He thought he could vaguely remember a boy called Theo Nott in their year. He had been a Slytherin and had sometimes hung out with Draco. He had been a relatively quiet guy, from what Harry could recall. Not likely to start taunting other Houses.

Draco threw him an unreadable look. "I – heard that he had disappeared three years ago," he answered slowly; his eyes going back to the newspaper which was laid open on the table next to him. "Nobody was really alarmed, because apparently he had let it slip a few times that he wanted to travel around the world before settling down. But last night a guy found some remains buried in the woods and it turns out that – that those remains belong to Theo." He stared blankly at the newspaper while green eyes widened with abhorrence. "There's no mention of how he died exactly, but the Aurors suspect he was murdered. They're investigating his death now."

Harry swallowed and asked softly, "Were you – were you two friends?"

Grey silver eyes stared at him morosely. "Friends … We were certainly more than acquaintances, but … He was one of the few Slytherins who could hold a decent conversation with me." Draco furrowed his eyebrows and tapped an erratic beat on the paper, right on top of a photo showing two Aurors walking around a particular spot near some trees. "We didn't really talk much after the war ended, but you know …" Abruptly he shook his head and let out a small derisive chuckle. "It's just weird to know he isn't … there anymore, you know? He might not have been one of my friends, but …" His voice died out; something in his eyes dimmed.

The scraping of the chair being pushed back rang through the kitchen, but Draco didn't look up when Harry stood up and walked around the table, bending down slightly so that he could bring his arms around the blond's shoulders. It was an awkward position – his rounded belly bumped against Draco's arm – but Harry didn't care about that right now.

"I'm sorry, Draco," he murmured, casting a sad glance at the newspaper.

He had never really talked with Nott, but that didn't mean his death didn't unsettle him. He tightened his embrace; feeling the tension in Draco's shoulders.

A loud sigh left his husband's mouth and the blond wizard twisted around in his chair until his right ear was pressed against Harry's stomach and his own arms slipped around the dark haired man's waist, resting low on his hips. A faint frown lingered on his face and his arms tightened around Harry, tugging him closer to the chair. The unforgiving wood of the armchair dug into his thighs, but the green eyed man stayed quiet, only allowing his fingers to rub soothingly over Draco's left shoulder. He knew his husband needed the touch, the embrace, now; even if he would never admit it aloud, he was clearly disconcerted by what had happened to his former classmate. Harry couldn't blame him for feeling like that. Even he felt thrown off by Nott's death and he had never interacted with the man.

They remained wrapped up around each other for a long time, silent.

* * *

"We're getting a girl? You really mean it?"

Harry nodded; the large grin that had appeared on his face after getting to hear they were expecting a girl still hadn't abated three hours later when he told his lover the big news.

"I can't believe it! This is fantastic!" Arms wrapped around him in a tender hug and a kiss was dropped on his rounded belly. "Hey, there, baby girl."

While the other man murmured to his stomach how much he loved their baby and couldn't wait to finally see her, Harry smiled and ran his hands through soft hair. He felt their baby girl kick in response and he grinned.

When he blinked next, he found himself lying on a bed; snow white sheets covering his body. A couple of lit, black candles provided some light and his heart started thundering, the beat of it resounding in his ears, when he recognised the room he was in.

Sitting up, he hissed lowly when his muscles protested; his lower body feeling sore. His stomach was flat, too flat and he hastily looked around the room, trying to catch sight of his baby girl.

He ignored the tremble going through his body and swung his legs off the bed, intent on searching the entire room. The other one couldn't have taken her, right? He couldn't have … He wouldn't have done …

He had just managed to stand up, swaying dangerously back and forth as he felt lightheaded when the door suddenly opened and the other man stepped inside, lingering in the doorway when he took notice of the fact that Harry was no longer in bed.

"You shouldn't get up yet," he scolded; more than half of his body remained in the shadow cast by the door. "Your body is still recovering from the ordeal."

"Where is she?" Harry asked and clenched his arms around his sides, hoping his voice didn't wobble as much as he thought it did.

"Who?" His voice had noticeably cooled down.

"You fucking know who I'm talking about!" Harry hissed, no longer pretending to appear compliant with the wizard in front of him. What the fuck did it matter if the bastard got angry? He wanted his daughter now! "My daughter – where the fuck is she?"

"Are you deliberately being obtuse now, darling? It had to disappear," the other one replied impatiently. "I can't have something like that coming in between us."

"Did you – did you give her to someone?" Harry asked; his mouth and throat dry. His nails burrowed themselves in his sides; the stinging pain barely registering in his mind. If his daughter had been given to someone, she would at least be alive. Maybe even safe. Merlin, he hoped she was safe. Surely the bastard wouldn't have gone as far as …

His reply was amused laughter. The cold sound ran a shiver over his spine and his heart squeezed painfully; it was suddenly becoming harder to breathe.

"Oh, I guess you could say that. It all depends on how you look at it." White teeth flashed in a twisted grin as the man took a step forwards, leaving the shadows.

Across his chest, covering the pale blue shirt, were splatters of …

* * *

There was someone screaming. Loudly with a kind of terror he had never heard before. The sound wouldn't stop, but kept going and going and –

"…rry! …arry! HARRY!"

Emerald green eyes shot open and the sound abruptly cut off. It took him a few seconds before he realised _he_ had been the one who had been screaming.

He took a deep breath and made a choking sound, when his throat contracted painfully and he shot up, leaning forwards as he tried to breathe. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, nearly drowning out the worried voice of Draco.

"Harry, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" Draco asked worriedly and a warm hand descended on his back, rubbing soothingly. Kisses were hastily pressed against his cheek and forehead as the second hand gripped his own tightly. "Hey, hey, what's wrong? You're safe, I promise. I'm here."

"N-i-nightmare," Harry brought out; his teeth chattered with the inexplicable cold that suddenly wrapped around him. It felt like he was doused with ice water as the sense of terror refused to remove its grip on him. His son fussed around in him, clearly startled, and Harry whimpered as the horrifying images of his dream refused to leave his head.

"Come here," Draco murmured and somehow managed to move them around until Harry was leaning against Draco's chest, nestled between his legs underneath the blankets. His hands joined Harry's on top of his belly; the dark haired man was anxiously caressing his stomach, trying to remind himself that this was real and that it only had been a nightmare.

Nothing more. Nothing more than a stupid nightmare, which had him breathing laboriously as he tried to calm down.

Just a nightmare.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco murmured in his ear. His hands stroked soothingly over Harry's stomach and the younger man concentrated on that feeling, forcing himself to match it and inhale every time Draco's hands reached the top of his belly before sliding down again.

When he thought he could open his mouth without terror seizing him again, he answered with a raspy voice, "I – I dreamt that I – I was in a room and someone had taken my baby away. My daughter. And she – he k-killed her." He squeezed his eyes shut as the vision of his nightmare crept up again and he took a shuddering breath.

"It's not real," Draco whispered and pressed a kiss against his shoulder.

"I know it's not real!" Harry snapped; his nerves frazzled. Almost as soon as he said it, he regretted his outburst and squeezed Draco's knee in apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that."

"It's okay, I know that it's because of the nightmare," Draco sighed and his hands stilled right below Harry's navel. "But it's just a dream, okay? Our son is safe. Nothing is going to happen. Nobody is going to take him away from us, okay?"

"I know, it's just …" Harry trailed off, frustration peaking. Not only did the nightmare actually leave him terrified, but he couldn't help but wonder why he had dreamt about a daughter and not his son. Wouldn't it have made more sense if he had a nightmare about losing his son? "I know it's ridiculous, but …" He shook his head and bit his lip, raking a hand through his sweaty hair. "Don't even know why I dream about a girl when we're having a son."

Draco paused and then said in a forced light tone, "Maybe it's your subconscious saying that our next baby is going to be a girl? I wouldn't mind that to be honest."

Harry turned his head to look at the blond. "Our son still needs to be born and you're already talking about a second one?" he inquired incredulously, but tension was slowly seeping out of his body. Talking like this was good. It helped him distract him from that god awful nightmare.

Draco shrugged and offered him an impish smile. "Just thinking ahead, that's all. You can never be too early with things like this." He sniffed delicately.

Harry chuckled weakly and kissed the other man softly. "Thanks," he murmured against Draco's lips. He knew he didn't need to say more for the blond to understand what he had meant with that.

Grey eyes visibly softened in the faint moonlight making its way through the gap in the curtains and Harry was pulled down, so that he ended up wrapped up in Draco's embrace, his head resting against his chest.

A soft kiss was pressed against his forehead and a strong hand settled on his back; the weight of it reassuring and protective.

"I'm here, all right?" Draco whispered and fingers trailed up and down over Harry's back. The feather light touch made him drowsy and he snuggled closer against his husband, the last remnants of the nightmare leaving his mind. "It was just a nightmare, you're okay, I promise."

Before Harry's eyes slipped close and sleep overtook him once more, his ears picked up Draco's last sentence.

"I got you."

* * *

 **AN2: Yep, still got no clue at all what my mind was thinking. It's a dangerous place, let's keep it at that.**

 **Please let me know what you thought about it in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


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